


Apple of Discord

by infandomswetrust



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Abigail is Myrto, Alternate Universe - Ancient Greece & Rome, Chilton is King Agamemnon, Gore, Greek Mythology - Freeform, Hannibal is Achilles, I can't believe I'm doing this, Iliad-AU, Jack is Odysseus, Love, M/M, Multi, Smut, Tojan War, WHY DIDN'T YOU STOP ME, WIP, War, Will is Patroclus, yes you read correctly
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-23
Updated: 2014-06-26
Packaged: 2018-02-05 22:50:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1835092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/infandomswetrust/pseuds/infandomswetrust
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Don't look at me like that. This had to be done.</p><p>Iliad-AU, meaning Will and Hannibal fighting the Trojan War together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. To Achaea

**Author's Note:**

> Well. I did it. 
> 
> Not beta'd

He had always known this was where he would end up. It had been inevitable. This was what he had been born to do. He was a warrior and he would act as such, hence he had gone for the table with the weapons. He was well aware it had been a trick, Hannibal Lecter wasn’t a stupid man, and frankly, Jack Crawford had always been predictable. Hannibal knew his parents worried. He knew why they tried to hide him, but he also knew who he was. This was his destiny; he was not going to deny his identity. He was going to live and die as a hero.

They were on their way to Aulis. In the port of the town, a camp was already set, waiting for the warriors to arrive. Hannibal spoke very little during the journey. Jack seemed to think it was because he was upset about his ruse and therefore avoided to address him, which Hannibal was glad for. At some point, Diomedes joined them. Hannibal disliked the man; he was an exceptional warrior, yes, but he was of a dull and simple mind in his opinion. With every mile they got closer to Aulis, Hannibal became more silent. Little did the others know that the reason behind that was not at all anxiety or maybe excitement as they assumed, but anticipation. It wasn’t the war he was anticipating, not the journey towards Troy, not the victory he was certain would be theirs one day; his anticipation was way simpler, and somehow way more complex.

They arrived in Aulis and were greeted by Aias, Nestor and others, but Hannibal cared little about his future brothers-in-arms. His eyes roamed over the crowd, only the slightest flicker in his calm, maroon eyes that betrayed his actual emotions. He was disappointed. It didn’t take him more than one look around to determine the only person he cared for, he looked forward to having by his side again, had not arrived yet. Suddenly he did see a familiar face and made his way towards the young woman.

“Abigail, where is your brother?”

The girl turned to face him, a small smile upon her features.

“If I knew I would already be on my way home again. I came to say my farewell, but Jack tells me William isn’t here yet. You know my brother, Hannibal. He probably got distracted on the way.”

Distraction was undoubtedly always welcomed by William. Hannibal remembered their years under Chiron’s care with a fond smile. The day Menoetius, Will’s father, came to Hannibal’s father in search for shelter was a day Hannibal would never forget. He was practicing on the fields of Phthia, when he saw the two strangers approaching the palace. Consumed by curiosity, he came closer and saw what he believed was the most beautiful sight on earth and Olympus alike. The boy truly was of divine beauty; thick, unruly hair of a brown so beautiful, even the most gorgeous Centaur must have been jealous, eyes bluer than any ocean Hannibal had ever seen and lips like he imagined could only be resembled by Aphrodite herself. His father granted the refugees shelter and the same night, Hannibal snuck down to the room the boy had been brought to. He considered for a moment and then simply knocked on the door. When Will opened the door, his blue eyes just blinked up at Hannibal once before they focused on something else.

“What do you want?” the boy had asked without looking up. Hannibal should have thought it discourteous; he was son to the king who gave the boy shelter after all, but he found himself merely amused.

“May I come in?” he had asked and Will’s eyes roamed over Hannibal very quickly before he made a vague gesture that could have meant anything from ‘yes’ to ‘go to Hades’ and stepped aside.

They started talking and didn’t stop until the early morning hours when Hannibal had to return to his own chambers. Will told him about the reason he and his father had had to flee, and Hannibal was fascinated by the impassive and yet entrancing way Will described the murder of his friend. At least that was what he called it, from what Hannibal heard later it had been an accident, but Will wouldn’t call it anything less than murder. Hannibal on his part, told Will about his mother the Nymph and about the story behind her and his father’s marriage. Will seemed amazed by the fact that even Zeus had desired Hannibal’s mother. What Hannibal didn’t know was that the boy secretly thought that it was no surprise; that he imagined Hannibal must have inherited Thetis’ beauty.

When his father sent Hannibal and Will to Chiron they were already inseparable. William was a remarkable boy, a strong warrior and extremely intelligent, but he was also a dreamer. He had often gotten lost in the wilderness at first, and while Hannibal had been worried about his somewhat-adoptive brother, Chiron had merely smiled and told him to leave the boy to his imagination; his instincts would lead him home sooner or later. They did; Will always came back and through his explorations he got used to the wilderness a lot quicker than Hannibal.

Hannibal considered Will’s dreaminess an endearing feature of his, but now he cursed his friend for letting him wait. They weren’t children anymore and it had been far too long since they had last seen each other. What could be distraction enough to make the young man forget about his oldest friend? Just as Hannibal played with the thought of leaving Aulis again to meet Will halfway, he spotted heartwarmingly familiar dark curls. Will was walking along the shore, far away from the enthusiastic, stressful camp of soldiers getting ready to sail off. The young man’s gaze was riveted on the ocean, rather than the huge ships that were getting stocked for a war. Hannibal climbed down to the shore, his eyes never leaving Will’s body. The body of a man. Hannibal stared openly, taken aback by how Will had changed and yet remained the same. He certainly was no boy anymore, but his features were still soft and almost feminine. When he turned and finally saw Hannibal, his red lips spread into a warm, wide smile and with boyish delight he ran through the warm white sand, towards his friend and brother. He threw himself at Hannibal, making them both fall and land on the soft ground. Hannibal wasn’t too pleased about lying on the filthy shore, but Will was half on top of him, his arms tightly wrapped around Hannibal’s middle, and made no move to stand up.

“You are quite late, William. You denied your sister the chance to see you off,” Hannibal said and brought his arms up to return his friend’s embrace, one hand sliding into his hair and combing through the wild, soft locks.

“I assured she wouldn’t. A farewell would speak of grief when we ought to be celebrating our departure. Abigail doesn’t see reason to fight. If she’d have it her way I would stay at home.” Will spoke into the fabric of Hannibal’s chiton, his face buried below the man’s chest.

“I should be grateful then, for your intractability. I would not leave this port unless you were on the ship with me.”

Will looked up, a smile upon his features and he shifted to lie in the sand next to Hannibal, not loosening his grip around the man however.

“The same applies to you. I heard your parents tried to spare you the war,” he said and rested his head on Hannibal’s shoulder.

“They tried to spare themselves the loss. It saddens me to leave them, but this is where I was meant to be,” Hannibal said and twisted a soft lock around his fingers thoughtfully. “As were you,” he added. Will turned his head to look at Hannibal, their faces inches apart.

“To Achaea, then,” Will said.

“To our reunion, Will,” Hannibal answered pressed his lips to the dark curls.


	2. Lust and Artemis' wrath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there, I figured not everyone is a freak like me so it would probably be wise to tell y’all a bit more about the Trojan War. Now, this is not absolutely necessary to enjoy the fiction, so you are very welcome to skip the note, but it will help for everything to make more sense. So here we go. Professor Kate (that’s my name btw, hi) is gonna give you a little mythology lesson.  
> So, at Peleus and Thetis’ (Achilles parents) wedding, the goddess Eris tossed a golden apple (also known as the Apple of Discord hence the name of this fic) to the banquet of the gods, inscribed to the “fairest one”. Why she did it? Well, because she was the goddess of discord and chaos and therefore wasn’t invited to the wedding. Kinda like the eighth fairy in sleeping beauty. Anyway. Understandably, she was pissed and got back at them by practically crashing the wedding. The goddesses Athena, Hera and Aphrodite started a grim argument about the apple. Three fair, beautiful goddesses and only one apple. What now? Run to dear brother Zeus. Zeus of course, didn’t really want to get in the middle of a bitchfight and told Paris, the prince of Troy, to judge which one of the three was the fairest. Now being the mature, upright goddesses that they were, they all tried to bribe Paris. Aphrodite lived up to her name since she was the only one who really seemed to grasp what men want (ifyaknowaddamean) and promised him the beautiful woman Helen, should he choose her. Paris, being a male, thought more with his dick than with his head (sorry to all males who are reading this) (you can’t deny it though) and accepted. Problem was Helen was already married to Menelaus, king of Sparta. Aphrodite made her fall in love with Paris and he stole her and took her to Troy. Agamemnon, Menelaus’ brother and King of Mycenae went nuts and wanted to get back at Paris. He led troops of Achaeans to Troy and started a ten year long fight. So we have the Achaeans under King Agamemnon and in favor of Hera and Athena fighting against the Trojans under King Paris and in favor of Aphrodite. Don’t get me wrong though, the gods didn’t actually help them much or anything, they did interfere when they felt like it, but mostly human wars were of an entertainment value to them at most. Well. That’s it for now. You all get an A+ for actually reading this.

Will couldn’t sleep. It wasn’t uncommon, the gods had never allowed him much sleep, but tonight was especially cruel. It was their last night ashore and the ships next to the camp wavered too strong for it to be a peaceful night. That wasn’t the main reason Will was still up, however. He was worried, very much so. He had acted brave at home and in front of Hannibal, but the truth was he feared the awaiting war. He knew he was a good warrior; he knew they had Athena and possibly Hera on their side, he knew the camp was full of some of Greece’s best soldiers… and yet he was worried. Being a boundless, young fighter, he longed for combat of course; he had been raised as a warrior for years; learned to fight, learned to kill, and he was comfortable on the battlefield. It wasn’t the thought of fighting that intimidated him, in the contrary, but it was the finality of it all. They had started a journey into the unknown and Will was aware there might not be a journey back. Defeat the Trojans or die trying. The aspect of dying in combat didn’t scare him. The aspect of having to leave earth however, of having to leave Hannibal behind, of starting yet another journey into the unknown only this time alone, mortified him. In a perfect world, they would be bound infinitely, he thought. They would be side by side for eternity, side by side in combat, side by side in victory, side by side in defeat, side by side in life, side by side in death; even the Underworld unable to separate them. In a perfect world, they could never lose each other. But the world was flawed and the threat of losing each other strong, the war a greater risk than Will allowed himself to admit. He was mortal; the only thing separating him from death a blade or a well-placed arrow. He could fall, and if he would, he would fall alone. Without Hannibal, he _was_ alone, no matter how many people were around him. The man had become part of him years ago and that would never change. He needed him. Even now, only minutes apart, Will missed Hannibal.

He knew it was the same vice versa. He had seen it in Hannibal’s eyes ever since the very first time he had looked into them. With a sigh, Will stood up from his bunk and left his tent. The sea breeze was chilly and Will spoke a quick prayer to Poseidon upon seeing the rather big waves. A storm would be fatal; they really didn’t need any interference while getting ready to sail off. Shivering, the young man tugged at his light chiton, wishing he would have thought to put on something warmer. He stared at the ocean for a while longer and then he started stumbling through the camp, searching for Hannibal’s tent. He found Diomedes sitting by a small fire. He was the son of Tydeus, one of Athena’s favorite warriors and Will was thankful he was fighting with them, even though the man was unbearably arrogant.

“William, you should be in your tent. Selene has long lifted the moon.”

“You aren’t in your tent,” Will replied warily.

“I don’t need my strength as much as you do yours.”

Arrogance. Will pursed his lips, knowing it would be a bad idea to be on Diomedes’ bad side and refrained from a comeback. Instead he asked:

“Can you show me the way to Hannibal’s tent?”

Diomedes snorted and glanced at Will before he gestured vaguely.

“Over there. But he surely is with a slave. All of them are,” the man said and Will couldn’t hold back a frown. It was normal for the warriors to have their slaves; beautiful young women they spared from death to take as trophies or as gifts. Though Will had had many himself, the thought of Hannibal being with a slave made him feel strangely uncomfortable.

There was a lot of concupiscence to their friendship, neither could deny that, but growing up together, their touches and gestures had always remained harmless; brotherly. Will didn’t know why; Eros had definitely blessed them plenty, they had just never acted upon it. After short hesitation, Will called out at Hannibal’s door and waited anxiously. When Hannibal opened and smiled as soon as he saw him, Will’s lips tugged into a smile automatically.

“Will, what brings you here at this late hour?”

As far as Will could see, no one else was in the tent but he asked nonetheless.

“I… I couldn’t sleep. I’m sorry, I didn’t want to disturb you… Are you alone?”

Hannibal’s eyes betrayed mild amusement as he stepped aside to make way for Will. The tent was indeed empty and Will wondered why he felt so glad about that.

“Even if I wasn’t, you know I would prefer your company over that of any woman's, Will.”

Will shuddered slightly, partly because of the cold, partly because of the other man’s words. Hannibal noticed him shivering and frowned. He quickly closed the tent and sat down on the makeshift bed, pulling Will with him. He lied down on the narrow bunk and pulled the younger man against his chest, covering them both with the white cloth that served as sheet and wrapping his arms around Will to keep him warm.

“What is keeping you up, my beloved?” he whispered into Will’s ear, his lips brushing over skin. Will closed his eyes and pressed back against Hannibal, savoring the other’s proximity and his warmth.

“Doubt,” he muttered. “I doubt myself, I doubt the Achaeans, I doubt the war.”

“You are one of the best warriors I know, Will. If you didn’t have doubt, you would be victim to megalomania.”

Will turned in Hannibal’s arms, their chests pressing together, their noses brushing, their eyes locking.

“Does that mean you harbor doubts as well?” Will whispered, his lips moving close enough to Hannibal’s that he could feel his own breath recoiling from Hannibal’s skin.

“I would be foolish not to. The Trojans are powerful and Aphrodite won’t leave their side.”

Will pursed his lips and stared up at the ceiling. He hadn’t expected Hannibal to doubt their force. If even Hannibal, son of Peleus, demigod and divine warrior, harbored doubts; there was no reason to feel euphoria towards the fight.

“Will, look at me,” Hannibal said softly and the young man tore his gaze back to Hannibal. “Doubt is a necessary mindset, whereas negativity spells doom for our fight.”

“Negativity and doubt are separated by a thin line. Once doubt is allowed into the mind, negativity has at least to be considered,” Will replied. Hannibal ran his hand up Will’s back, slipping beneath his chiton and drawing soothing patterns into his bare skin. Will let out a soft sigh and arched into the touch.

“Then consider and dismiss, because there is truly nothing to be negative about,” Hannibal answered and pressed his lips to Will’s as soon as he had finished the sentence.

The young man momentarily froze in shock and excitement, and when he parted his lips for the kiss, Hannibal was already pulling back.

“Sleep, Will. Tomorrow is a long, dull day of sailing,” he said and cupped Will’s cheek tenderly before he snaked both arms around his waist to pull him even closer, their bodies flush and Will’s head tucked in under Hannibal’s chin. The older man could feel dry lips hesitantly pressing to his chest and he smiled until he fell asleep.

 

When Will woke up, he was warm and safe in Hannibal’s bunk, their limbs entangled, his head resting above the other man’s heart.

“Good morning, Will,” Hannibal murmured and ran a hand through the unruly curls.

Will tilted his head and blinked up at Hannibal. Slowly, memories from the night before came back to him and he felt uncertainty. He had been with slaves before, but this was different in a way that made him almost anxious. He knew Hannibal loved him, but there were a great many different ways of love. His mouth being faster than his mind once again, Will sat up a bit and stared down at Hannibal.

“Why did you kiss me?”

Hannibal returned his gaze and amusement tugged at his lips, making Will feel even more uncertain.

“Would you have preferred it if I hadn’t?”

“I won’t answer your question unless you answer mine.”

Hannibal smiled slightly and reached up to stroke over Will’s cheek.

“Stubborn boy,” he said and leaned up to kiss him again. This time, Will parted his lips immediately and kissed back with all the desire he possessed. He licked into Hannibal’s mouth with unbridled passion and pressed down against him, moving their bodies together fiercely. The older man slid both his hands into Will’s hair and tugged at his curls while he allowed Will to satiate his curiosity before he started shoving his tongue back with his own, twining them together and exploring Will’s mouth. When he shifted to suck Will’s lower lip into his mouth and started nibbling on it, Will moaned softly and rocked his hips against Hannibal’s again. He set an erratic pace, rubbing against Hannibal with short, hard thrusts. When Will’s lips parted wider for another moan, Hannibal took the opportunity and slid his tongue past them one last time. He pulled back and gently placed a hand on Will’s hip to stop him before they could go too far. Will gasped and tried to catch his breath while Hannibal was smiling up at him, only slightly panting.

“I believe that answers both our questions,” he said and cupped Will’s cheek to swipe his thumb over the young man’s bottom lip. Will’s licked at the finger briefly before he straightened his back and moved to get off the bunk.

“It answers a lot more than that,” he replied quite breathlessly. “I should go. Chilton won’t be pleased if we show ourselves so unfocused before the war has even begun,” he added with a sad smile.

Frederik Chilton was obsessed with the war. For him, it wasn’t about Troy or about the quarrel between the gods, for him it was about pride. Paris had taken his brother’s wife, and that was an open insult to the entire family as well as the kingdom. He was an ambitious man and pride and glory were more important to him than anything else. This wasn’t as much about his family as it was about him. He had been made to look ridiculous by the Trojans, he felt personally insulted by the audacity Paris had shown. So he led the Achaeans into combat, to conquer Troy and restore what their insult had destroyed.

Now, he was furiously pacing around on the shore. Hannibal, who led the Myrmidons and Menelaus, Chilton’s brother, who led the Spartans were standing in front of the ships along with a few other warriors. Chilton pointed at the sky for the seventh time already and yelled:

“What have we done to upset the gods? Athena ought to be with us! How can we win a fight we can’t get to?”

The gods didn’t seem to listen, or perhaps they were merely amused with the King’s desperation, since the air remained windless and the canvases drooping.

“It isn’t what _we_ have done, brother,” Menelaus said quietly. “It’s what you have done.”

As mentioned, Chilton was a man of insane pride. Pride and self-righteousness, to an extent of self-aggrandizement. Now, what Menelaus was implying was that his brother knew very well what had upset the gods. What had upset one goddess, more precisely. Chilton was an avid fan of hunting, and again, an avid fan of himself. Avid enough that he thought of himself as an equal to Artemis, goddess of the hunt. To prove this, he had killed a deer, the animal that was sacred to Artemis and announced his alleged equality to her. Artemis, needless to say, was not pleased.

Chilton winced visibly and shot his brother a dark glare. Frustrated, he told the warriors to go back to their tents. They would not set sail today.

In the evening, Chilton would wish the lack of wind would have been the only punishment. He would have been _grateful_ for a lack of wind, because in the evening, the first soldier collapsed, trembling and sweating. The first soldier of many more to follow.

Artemis had sent them a plague.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chiton= kinda the greek version of a tunic  
> Selene= goddess of the moon  
> Eros= god of sexual desire and love (cupid in Roman mythology)
> 
>  
> 
> FYI, Diomedes was a hero and my characterization of him is probably not vindicated, but that's just how I imagine him.

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly, I don't know if I'll continue, due to a simple lack of knowledge. Greek mythology is a passion of mine, but nothing more and I doubt I'm proficient enough to rewrite the Iliad.^^


End file.
